Dead of Night
by Deathangel113
Summary: Sometimes returning home isn't always the best decision.


**Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto. I hold no ownership or affiliation to it.**

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Blank windows stared listlessly into oblivion. The empty eyes of the buildings that filled the area of the Uchiha clan's land left an eerie feeling. Now standing in place he once called home, but could now only be home to ghosts he felt small. The insignificance of who he had become was almost complete. He started to walk forward, his footsteps silent on the street. The weight of the empty houses that faced the street threatened to push him to the ground. A few more steps and he then stopped. It was all far too familiar. He could see the street littered with bodies, the vision replacing reality for a brief moment before it was gone. His eyes moved to the sky and he expected to see Itachi watching him, but all was clear. He lowered his eyes and started to walk again. The path was to well known and he soon found himself standing before his house. Like all of the other buildings it was dark.

_Why did I come home?_

Like he had who he was a child he entered his house, taking special care to remove his sandals. Walking into the kitchen he expected to see his mother cooking, but the room was empty. He left and started to walking through the hallways, expecting to see his father or brother on their way out of the house or to hear the door open to signal their return from a mission. The feeling of loneliness that he had felt with the absence of his mother only increased with the house's stillness. It was strange that in all of the years that had passed since that night he was feeling such a thing now. The realization seemed to shatter whatever it was that had caused him to feel that way and he felt the familiar lack of emotions again. A door opened appeared before him and he stopped before after a moment's hesitation he slid the door open. His parents lay dead in the room. He felt sick and collapsed to his knees.

_He was testing his strength. He murdered them._

His breaths came in short gasps. Closing his eyes against the sight of the pool of vomit, he waited for the moment to pass. Sitting back he rested his head against the wall.

_I really am weak._

He chuckled in response to the thought. Strength truly was a lie, a passing dream. Opening his eyes he saw that the room was empty. His eyes moved to the dark stains on the floor and he recognized it as his parents' blood. Often he wondered if he should wash it away, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. He doubted that if he did it would have done any good. The stains he knew were eternal. He raised his hand to run it through his hair, but stopped when he saw that it was shaking. Somehow he wasn't surprised. Standing up he found that he felt weak. His eyes moved to the vomit, but any sickness that may have resulted at the sight was non-existent. He wiped the corners of his mouth before leaving the room. There were towels that his mother had folded neatly and placed in a closet. Pulling one from the shelf he then returned to the room and started to wipe up the mess. There was no reason to clean up the mess, but it would have bothered him if he didn't. When the floor was clean he walked to the kitchen and threw the towel into the garbage can. He rinsed his hands off in the sink, surprised that the water had not been shut off. On a second thought he splashed his face with the cool water before turning off the faucet. He leaned forward, staring into the sink.

_I'm home._

It wasn't home though. While it may have been once it was no longer. It was only an empty building. Any warmth or comfort that had once possessed this place, transformed it into a place where he could feel safe was dead. Itachi had slaughtered it and had left it could and dank. He pushed himself up and stared out the window into the garden.

_What had mother seen?_

He tried to see, to see himself training. Out of breath, but determined. His father and brother coming and going with barely a word. He felt lonely all of a sudden, more so than he normally did as if his heart ached for something more, a form of recognition.

_Is this how she felt?_

A cool breeze touched his face and he was awoken from the trance. He was no longer in the kitchen and he wondered when he had gone outside. Looking around he could see that the garden was overgrown with weeks, having gone wild years earlier. He glanced over his shoulder at the household. The window that he had been looking out of earlier was dark and he could not see what lay within. Turning away he walked back around the house to the front. He needed to get away. The streets were still empty and devoid of life. He passed the bakery and rather than finding himself at the entrance he discovered that he was in another part of the homestead.

_I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere._

He continued walking, but seemed to have become lost. It was strange that he was unable to find his way out since he had walked these streets countless times before. There was a whisper and he stopped. Looking over his shoulder he saw no one behind him. Shaking his head he continued walking, convincing himself that it was nothing. The hairs on the back were standing up and he did his best to ignore it as he continued to wonder the streets.

_Why do I feel this way?_

The answer was obvious, but he couldn't bring himself to recognize it. From behind he heard a snap and he stopped. Turning around he saw nothing. Everything was still.

_"Run away little brother?"_

There was no sound, no sign to show that he was being. The estate was empty, dead. He was running. His breaths came in ragged gasps and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. There was a figure before him and he came to an abrupt stop a few feet away.

_Itachi._

His brother watched him with could obsidian eyes. For a brief moment time froze and he stood staring at his brother, unable to move. Time returned and Itachi's image melted away. In his place was the entrance to the estate. He didn't move, feeling as though all of his strength had left him. His body shook as cold realization sunk in.

_I murdered him._


End file.
